//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Commands, Commitments and Conclusions // Story: Equestrian Grand Knights // by Athlon2736 //------------------------------// The sharp droning of engines filled the air as string of airships flew through the air; the escape the glowing fire from behind them of the dark Zebrica port. The transports, filled with brigades of warriors, rocked beneath their air balloons; gently forming a long line of twelve ships surround by the real bite of the Galastrian Imperial Navy. On either side few ships floated by ballast gems made of steel and iron; the squadrons spread out to protect the retreating army. To the north a fleet of vessels could be seen, as their dark silhouettes could not be hidden by the crisp light from the moon, pounding the city with their long guns. The dull rolling thunder echoed to the convoy as they fled, lucky guarded by the remainder of the Galastrian ships sent to Zebrica to fight and hold their enemy at bay while the Imperial Guard fought them on the ground. The plan had changed with a loss of a fortress, and the announcement of the Zebra king throwing his support behind the Prench Army. The Haystar, a large deep belly transport airship flew at the rear of the convoy, the last ship that could escape the fiery hell that was now the Zebra port. Below its red-stained deck was several imperial regiments, the remains of a brigade who a brutally fought for its survival. Most, like the line-breaker regiment that rested towards the bow, was relatively intact. The large, heavier armoured guard-ponies mulled about as they stripped the bulldozer like gear from their bodies, under the watchful eyes of the crewmembers of the Haystar. Though comrades with the other ponies of the brigade, they isolated themselves from the lesser stallions and mares, seeking to keep their pride clean of the distasteful ranks of the other regiments. At the rear of the hold, separated from the prideful line-breakers, came the quiet regiment of mares and stallions of the brigade’s rangers. They shifted about, undressed in mere moments and began to become rowdy amongst themselves, talking as family rather than soldiers. They hid away their gear, fearing it to be stolen by others, and moved to the mess hall of the ship. In the centre, dividing the drastically different regiments rested two regiments of the same build and classification. Line stallions and mares moved about, striping the breast plates away from the dusty uniforms below them, all battered from the past two months of fighting. Neither regiment as they striped, having both taken the brunt of the causalities of the division from the fierce fighting. However, one had ultimately drawn the shorter straw in the fighting. The first regiment, and larger of the two, was patrolled by their colonel; inspecting them as they began their cool down from the heat of battle. He plotted his course to keep him away from the majority of the line-breakers and ranger, praying to keep away from those regiment’s commanders and their constant bickering. He slowly made is way about, stopping to take to officers and command staff, receiving the numbers of his regiment first hoof, and was pleasantly surprised by how cheerful most of the soldier were to be leaving the city. Some even began to smile as the colonel moved past them, giving the camel brown stallion a clean salute. Kleric Page approached his ultimate destination, as a few dog tired stallions met his gaze. He knew the number he was seeking, but wanted it from the commander of the regiment specifically, hopefully to have the number proven wrong. He asked for directions to the commanding officer of the regiment, receiving a wary glance from a corporal, who pointed with his hoof back the way Kleric came from. “She’s back there,” the young colt answered, before continuing to undress in silence like the other around him. Kleric looked back along his path then towards the ochre colt, glaring at him sharply. “I did not see Lieutenant-Colonel Willo Wisp back along my path,” he sharply said, making the group of stallion in front of him stop undressing and look back at the unicorn. Kleric floated a list forward to the colt and pressed into his face with his magic, “I suggest you point me in her direction, corporal.” “Like I said, sir,” his voice was drained of energy and even care for command, “She’s back in the port.” He put his hoof up on the list and pushed it away, meeting Kleric’s gaze, “The commanding officer now is I believe Captain Blass Schwert, or Commissar Blitz Krieg, sir.” Kleric nodded slowly, and pulled the paper out of his face, “Sorry adjutant. I thought if you had escaped, Willo Wisp would have as well.” The colt nodded gently, returning to his previous task as Kleric moved away, sliding past a priest giving a quiet sermon to a group of soldiers. His voice was very heavy and slow, and the colonel was sure he heard a few names in the prayer for the dead. He quickly asked others, for the direction to the commanding officers now. After a short period, he approached the two officers wearing a solemn look, meeting the glance of the young Captain. Blass was standing to the side of the commissar, his crisp alabaster coat fade with dust and soot, while his once clean forest green uniform was now dusted with tan and brown dirt. His dull yellow mane, though short, was unkempt and dirty, finishing the painting of the drained officer. Commissar Krieg was a different story all together, and though he just as dirty as the Captain, his posture suggested the grey earth pony was still resolute and capable. His dull blue eyes glanced at the colonel as he approached, nodding to him as he looked back at a list on a small bunk of another soldiers. He heavy black storm coat hid his body away from peering eyes, and his peaked cap helped finish the intimidating look of the commissar. “Colonel,” Blass said, giving a slow salute. Kleric returned it, looking at the commissar for a brief moment, then at Blass. “What’s the bill?” he asked, praying it wasn’t the same number as he was told twenty minutes earlier. “Of the sixteen hundred of the stallions and mares deployed from our regiment,” the commissar started, “I can guarantee that there are only six hundred of us left. And that is not including the wound.” “Buck, that bad,” Kleric said, “I’ve got a confirmed three hundred dead, but damn, that nowhere near what you took.” “Of the six company commanding officer, and three commissars, there is Captain Schwert and I left. That’s seven officers,” Krieg said, running down the numbers, “We are now down to no more than two company’s worth of strength.” Kleric tasted a sour thought, realizing what that meant for a regiment like this, “Disbandment, correct?” ‘Cause any regiment under 3 company’s strength can be dismantled and shifted to other regiments as replacements,’ he thought bitterly to himself, glancing at the Blass. He nodded softly. “Looks like it, unless Colonel Jager can get us into the Equestrian Parade regiment with him, we might be joining your regiment. Or Luna forbid, Rooks regiment,” he said, sneering as he said the other colonel’s name. “I know my stallions would welcome you into our ranks easily, and I agree,” Kleric said smirking at him, “I hope you don’t get put into that god awful regiment they call Rook’s Own 87th.” “And what is wrong with my prestigious line-breakers, Colonel Page?” spoke a very refined voice from behind Kleric. He looked over at the navy blue earth pony, whose eye brow was quirked at the younger colonel’s statement, “I mean really, I think my regiment is the best this brigade has had to offer in a long time, and by Luna’s holy moonlight, I would be blessed with a commissar like Krieg in my ranks.” “Well, for starters your regiment class doesn’t match up with the 15th’s structure and your regiment is almost full strength, Colonel Rook,” Kleric answered, glaring at the pompous stallion as he approached them, flanked by two of his adjutants. Black Rook grinned at him, and gave him a slight bow, conceding the fact to Kleric, “But your regiment is so drawl and weak for a group of fierce and experienced fighters for some spoiled brat like you.” “You will keep my father out of this, as you know I earned my command,” Kleric spat at him, stepping forward, pressing his face against Rook’s. They glared at each other for a good solid minute, before Rook turned away from him and looked at Krieg. “He does have a point though; I’d probably just end up using this rabble for cannon fodder for my fine stallions and mares, seeing how useless they really are to me,” Rook said, motioning for is adjutants to follow him as he walked away. Krieg glanced back at the stallion as he moved away, and then returned his attention to Kleric. “Best to ignore a fool like him,” he commented, “Only leads one to be foolish. Come; let’s go talk on the deck.” Kleric nodded softly, leading as they made their way to the deck of the transport, coming up to the brisk night air. They made their way slowly over to the port side of the Haystar, glancing at the few ships to the southern edge of the convoy. “I am sorry about Willo,” Kleric commented, watching as a group of three ships towed a wounded leviathan, the listing warship weeping smoke softly from its superstructure. “Don’t be,” the commissar said, one of his hooves extracting a small package from his coat and popping a cigarette up. He glanced at him as he offered the colonel a smoke, receiving a shake of the head from Kleric. He shrugged, taking the offered smoke from himself, “She was a fine commander, a fiercely loyal to the crown and throne. Probably more so than any other mare I know and most stallions.” “Agreed. She will be missed though, and you know it,” Kleric commented grinning as he looked back at the commissar, “So what are your orders anyway? I know you know them.” Krieg slowly grinned around his smoke, letting the faint fumes puff out from his lips as he lit it, “I have no knowledge of what you speak Kleric,” he commented to the young colt. “The fifteenths been absolved off that list of deploying regiments with us, and you know where the remaining soldiers are going. Where and who are they being assigned too?” Kleric pressed, “If I have to, I’ll go to Brigadier-General Kloden to get the information. You know as well as I do this brigade needs those soldiers, even if we weren’t battered as badly as the ninety-fifth brigade.” “The ninety-fifth took the worst of it, and even if we were deployed with them, we are still in the same division,” Krieg countered, giving the officer next to him a stern look. Kleric flinched back at the look, taking a slight step back from the commissar, “You know as well as I do, that even if soldiers under my command are assigned to you, they are far more loyal to Colonel Jager.” “I understand that fact, but I-” Kleric started with a growl. “Give it a rest Page,” a sultry voice commented from the shadows, giving the pair a start causing them to turn to face the source. There stood a qilin mare, her luscious red mane accenting her fiery ochre eyes. “Oh? Did I scare the stalwart Colonel Kleric Page?” She stepped towards the commissar and pressed her snout against his, grinning menacingly at Krieg, “And did I startle you like that one night in the Serpents Valley, dear commissar?” Krieg stared at the mare for a moment, before turning away from her, “That was a single night, and you know that as well as I do Rose-Thorn.” “Colonel,” Kleric gave a slight bow to her, to which he received a perched eyebrow from the terrifying image of a qilin officer. Her body, tone by years of service, gave a gentle radiant glow to her as moons light struck her green coat. Her vivid orange eyes scanned him quickly before turning her gaze at the commissar, a smirk on her face. “I remember,” she started, “you saying you wish it could last forever.” “As do I, but I’m realistic,” Krieg commented, glancing over his shoulder at her with hard eyes, “What do you need Rose-Thorn?” “I require permission to kick Rooks pompous flank out of the bucking kitchen, cause I will not have him harassing my rangers while they eat their first true meal in a month,” her voice floated out, filled with poison as she spat out the colonels name, “Of course, Page’s boys and girls can join us, though I think my regiment would leave to give your remaining soldiers space to grieve.” “They won’t need to grieve,” Krieg commented back, “They knew the risks when we were put on rearguard.” He was right in that fact. Whenever units were put on rearguard duty, they always had heaviest causalities, “And if they are, they won’t for too long.” She gave a slight smile to him, “Always asking your troops to move mountains even if they’ve just moved a continent. Sometimes I wonder if you forget they are just mortals and not machines Krieg.” “I know the limits of my stallions. And I expect them to be able to fight even if they barely able to stand.” “Someponies would call that true devotion,” Rose gave him a disgusted look, “I call that callous and cruel. Sometimes, Krieg, I think you remind yourself you’re stallion before a commissar, and not the other way around. I will take my leave.” With that, she sharply spun away, walking past an older ochre stallion with a slight salute. The stallion, whose mane was greying, gives a nice salute back, before approaching the two at the side of the ship. Both quickly saluted firmly, snapping to attention. The stallion gave a jolly smile to them and returned the salute as a gentle greeting. “Commissar. Colonel, a fine evening to be on the deck,” he comments with a gentle smile, “Is everything in order Commissar?” “Yes general. Everything is in order. And thank you,” Krieg nods gently to him, “I appreciating your commitment to the soldier, sir.” The general shakes his head softly and smiles at him. It is a peaceful smile, content with what he’s done and what he will do. “Thank you Commissar, hearing that from you brings joy to my heart that I still appear a good brigadier general to somepony. I do wish I could have saved more of them then the few that I did,” the general’s voice wavered for a moment, as he glanced at the stars above. “General, you did what you could. If you had stayed any longer, we’d all be dead,” Kleric countered, taking a step towards the general, “You did the right thing, sir.” “Thank you Kleric. Now, let us get away from this depressing topic, commissar, I have your orders, right from command itself,” the earth pony states, his hoof drifting into the one of his uniform’s pockets and pulling out a the orders, “And I believe you should announce them to the troops while they eat.” Krieg took the envelope and opened it quickly skimming over it, glancing up at the general several times before back to orders, “I understand General. It was an honour serving under you Brigadier-General Kloden.” Kloden smiles softly, offering his hoof, “It was honour to have you serve under me Commissar.” Kleric smirked, “Sorry to see you go Commissar,” he leaned forward as the commissar shook Kloden’s hoof, “But what are you orders?” Krieg chuckled as he hid the orders away from him, tucking them smoothly into storm coat, “Wait till dinner, you’ll hear them then like the rest.” _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ Celestia stood quietly looking over the massive courtyard of the Imperial Palace, with a brigade standing in parade colours as it was inspected by Empress Frostmane. She smiled softly seeing the Empress, escorted by the commanding staff of this brigade and her royal guard move about speaking with the troops. Every so often she’d stop to approach a soldier, speaking with them with earnest interest, before moving on. Celestia remembered doing this herself, inspecting the royal guard when she felt it was a good time to do so. She turned to the door way, pausing briefly to sigh loudly, before opening the door with her magik. Celestia knew fully well what was about to happen as she entered the well lit room, feeling the every heavy presence of a group of commanders. Her eyes drifted to the first she had spoken to that faithful night, smiling at General Earthshaker, who gave a quick back to the alabaster ‘goddess’. Goddess. She had to get use to that term in so many respects. None of the Galastrians she had met called her Princess or highness. Always Goddess. Always. It was bitter sweet with the admiration she received, even when she felt she didn’t deserve it from them. Many adored her for that the feat of raising and setting the sun each day. Celestia knew they would bow even when told to stand, fall silent whenever she spoke or when she rose up herself. It was, for as much as she enjoyed the loyal devotion to her as a goddess, unsettling when she saw many ponies marching about with the crescent moon atop a black background. She had come to understand how much devotion meant to the Galastrians when Luna came for her first visit. For Celestia, she would receive a wreath and flowers upon her arrival. Maybe a dance or song group from a local school, or perhaps like what happen this time a military march for regiments down the city’s streets. Luna’s first, and so far only, venture to the capital was stunning as the entire city came to a complete and utter stand still. Upon her arrival she was asked by city council to walk the main street to the palace, escorted by her night guard and a band of Galastrian Knights. She was stunned to see the city in complete silence, bowing along the main road to the palace. Even as she prepared to enter the palaces grand doors the city remained silent. When she left the palace at night, she was met by a mass of ponies, asking her to give them a sermon for that night. Celestia smiled as she remembered how excited Luna was when she returned, and learned how much she had enjoyed it that the ponies were so eager to listen to her. Luna had told her of the wondrous excitement of foals as they raced up to her to offer her Moonlight Roses while the adults of the city sat with wonder as she spoke of the wonders that she laid into the sky. Celestia was jarred out of her thoughts by a loud crash, causing her to snap her head in the direction Captain Wind-Cutter, whose hoof was smash against the table he snarled at one of the Galastrians. “I will not, under any circumstance, allow that many Galastrians in the capital region of Equestria,” he spat, glaring dagger at the General Tavros, who shot him a cruel look back. The blue earth pony chewed on the end of his cigar, before point at the map. “Canterlot is the key to Equestria. And as my orders are, I am in command of the entire fifth army group, which is to defend Equestria should it be attacked by Prance, or by the Huns, or the Conquistadors, or Sicilian Legions. Equestria cannot be defended by a small group of valiant, though pathetically outdated, guard ponies,” Tavros barked at him, before point at the map, “Even then, I’m leaving a single brigade there, five thousand ponies. Even then, one of the four regiments will be stationed in Ponyville as a forward defensive position.” “The Royal Guard can hold the city, but there is no need for five thousand of your bastard soldiers in the capital region. Even if one of these regiments will be in Ponyville,” Wind-cutter pointed at the map, “That means you expect to fall back to there. Or close to there.” “Captain,” Celestia’s head turned to watch as General Shao, who was shifting his glasses up his snout, smiled softly, “I strongly urge you to understand what is going on. We’re not occupying Canterlot. We are placing troops there as an auxiliary defensive measure. Fillydelphia, Manehatten, Coltsburg, and the few other cities closer to the coast then Canterlot will have whole corps and field armies of varying sizes. Then there’s Stalliongrad with will have a whole two corps defending it. If you worried about a single brigade, we could send an entire division to be stationed there, make the number a staggering fifteen thousand.” The point was reasonable. Give up and let the brigade be stationed there, or continue to fight the propositions and cause an entire division to fall on the city. Shao clearly had enough of this pointless bickering between the two stallions, and with his planned defense in the northern part Galastria written up, presented and secured, he could afford to through his weight around. Celestia had come to like that about him and it remind her of Twilight with how he studied everything he could. The qilin general, who was only a year younger then Earthshaker, was tactically sound, intelligent, and quite cunning. Earthshaker on the other hoof was the furthest from thing from Shao, as the older stallion had bluntly stated about the fact they commanded differently. Where Shao was cunning and toyed with his enemy, as told by Earthshaker, he preferred grinding them to dust under the fury of the guns. “I agree with Shao on this Captain,” the elder general said, pointing at the map, “Canterlot, for all intense and purposes, is the fortress of Equestria. Mind you not a great one but a fortress none the less. Even having a brigade there can make the city a thorn in any army’s side, stalling them for months on end.” “That and the capabilities of the royal guard added to that could mean buying the city a full year of resistance,” another general commented, making Celestia glance at him. He was Commissar-General Zorn, the head of the entire Commissariat and one of the Big Six. She had only met this stallion once before, but even now he made her uncomfortable to be around. He was jet black, both his mane and coat, contrasted by his fierce red eyes. That made the four guard officers in the room. She slowly zoned out, ignoring the ideal conversation she should be partaking in. She hadn’t been to a war council in a very long time, and it showed now. She knew nothing of war strategies like her younger sister had during the days of Nightmare Moon. She glanced at the map, and sighed. From what she could tell, the Galastrian were planning their defense like a fortress. She looked along the coast of Equestria and stared at Manehatten. It would be left practically defenseless. She didn’t like it but it was easier to hold the open ground then a city with nearly 2 and a half million civilians in it. Then there were the small towns and villages that doted Equestria’s country side. “My Lady goddess of the sun,” a stallion said quiet next to her, pulling her back to the thought process at hoof, “May I discuss with you the fleet’s disposition while your Captain works out the details of Canterlots defense?” The Pegasus, the one Celestia remembered for supporting Wishing Rain, shifted nervously as she gave him a quick once over. His soft alabaster uniform contrasted with his silver grey coat and his new rank shining on the collar. Sky Admiral Windchester was a good stallion, and Celestia had come to respect him. “Of course Admiral. You told me a few days ago you wanted them to be based in both Canterlot and Cloudsdale correct?” she reiterated from memory, before glancing at the papers he shuffled between his hooves. He finally pulled one out, and placed it on the desk in front of her. “Yes, with Vice-Admiral Dash-star in command. With your permission we can have the fourth naval taskforce relocated there in the next four days.” “Thank you, Windchester. Tell me, do you like the new post?” she asked, whisking the paper into a neat pile and sat down and read through them. “Not in the least,” he said with a groan, “Being just an Admiral was hard enough. Now I’m the head of the whole damn fleet and with that damned Inquisitor constantly following me around the palace, its feels more of a punishment then a promotion.” He gave a weak smile, and motioned to a figure sitting in the corner. He was heavily clothed, hiding much of his features, unlike the generals and admirals in the room. Around his neck hung a pale up turned crescent moon with a golden ‘I’ placed at the center or it. Celestia glanced at him for a brief moment then back to the admiral, a soft smile on her face, “I would much rather that then being… what was it again? Strung up I believe?” Her smile faded the moment he shivered. “Forgive me, but I’d rather not talk about it. No offense my goddess,” “None taken, and please, just call me Celestia.” “I do believe he’s forbidden to do that my lady Celestia,” a voice commented, making both of them turn to face the source. There stood two young ponies, the Grand-Magister Fury-flare and steel grey mare with a deep emerald mane stood before them. The admiral bowed gently while Celestia giving a slight nod to the Magister, who bowed back. The other stood firm, glaring at the three. “I hope you three are done, since I am here to discuss something with the Sky-Admiral, and desire only his audience. If you’ll excuse him, Princess,” she spat, her eyes locking onto the pegasus. ‘If looks could kill,’ Celestia thought to herself. Windchester stuttered for a moment before quietly bowing and leaving, flanked by the still glaring mare, and now his personal ‘escort’. Celestia didn’t question it, instead, returned to the table as the room became ever tenser with Wind-Cutter and General Tavros bickering violently, almost coming to blows. She only sighed. If this was going to be every meeting of officers, then this was going to be a long war. A long war. _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ As an hour passed by since she left the forest, Twilight began to shiver as she waited for Jager to appear. She had never witnessed Zecora mad at somepony, let alone hostile towards a pony that was her friend. She glanced back at Ponyville in the distance to see it was getting dark out, and with that, colder. She shivered gently, before slowly sitting down in the soft snow. “I wouldn’t get comfortable,” Twilight jumped at Jager voice, spinning quickly around to stare at him. His cheek was red and swollen with a small cut jetting up from his lip. “I wasn’t. What happened?” she asked him, coming towards him. She looked closer at his cheek, her hoof coming up to his chin and turning it away so she could get a better look at it. Zecora’s hoof print was clearly present now, the even with his cherry red coat. He smirked at her and pulled his head out of the grasp. “Conserned for an old pony as I? When did this happen sparkle?” he teased, making Twilight flush slight and start to sputter an answer, “Don’t worry, I only tease. Regardless, I’m married so you can’t have it even if you wanted it dear.” “I- What- How- What?” Twilight began, before placing both her hooves on her face and groaning, much to the amusement to the stallion that walked away with a cheerful laugh. She huffed as she began to follow him again. They walked in silence back to the small town, Jager smiling softly at Twilight embarrassment, while she shot him a glance ever now and again. “There’s something you want to ask me, isn’t there Miss Sparkle,” he said suddenly, giving her a knowing look, “And before you ask how I know, I have a daughter who does that to me when she knows she’s in trouble.” “Well, I was curious if I could ask for some help. See, I just got news that my parents were on a cruise liner and with the newspaper today,” she started to explain, “If they weren’t on that airship, and I would like to know if you could check, since I presume you’re going to Canterlot after Ponyville correct?” “You presumption is correct, and I must apologize as I must decline.” She stalled mid-stride and stared at him, surprised by the answer. “What? Why not? I mean I could understand if you have to leave straight away but I doubt you have to do that as you have to wait for the rest of your recruits,” she started, falling back into stride with him, “And I presume that you need some time for them all to arrive, so I don’t see why you can’t just get them to send me a letter?” “Miss Sparkle,” Jager stopped and spun around, pacing a hoof on her lips and smiled, “No. Not because I don’t have the time or the ability to do it, but for the same reason you don’t want to do it. I don’t want to have to send that letter to you. I suggest you go to Canterlot yourself and get the truth in pony. It’s only fair.” With that, he turned around and sauntered off, back to the train-station. Twilight stared for a good few minutes, before rubbing her hoof slowly in the snow. He was right, with all things considered. He shouldn’t have to find the truth out for her when she was perfectly capable, and in addition to that she was only a four hour train ride from Canterlot. “Colonel?” she called out, making him stop and glance back, “Would it be alright with you if I stowed a ride with you to Canterlot?” He simply smiled.